The stench of the slums hit like a physical wall, a thick, cloying mixture of stagnant water, rot, and the metallic tang of poverty. I instinctively pulled my collar over my nose, my stomach churning. But as I looked at my companions, I saw no flinching, no wrinkled noses. To them, the air was simply... air.
"Still remember the air, Roxy?"
"Yeah Plasma, it's stinks here."
We moved like ghosts over the crumbling brick perimeter, dropping silently into the mud-slicked alleys of the lower district. This is infact, without a doubt, the same wall that Mya and I climbed in the past.
"You're holding your breath, Roxy,"
Mochi murmured, his amber eyes scanning the shadows of the leaning shanties. He moved through the filth with a grace that felt out of place, yet his posture was relaxed, as if his muscles remembered these narrow paths.
"Don't. You'll pass out before we reach the house. You have to let the rot in if you want to survive it."
"He's right," Clara added,
Clara voice regaining a sliver of strength now that she was on familiar ground. She stepped over a pile of refuse without a second thought.
"It smells like home. It smells like people who have been forgotten. You get used to it when it's the only thing you've ever known."
I looked at her, then back at Mochi.
"How can anyone get used to this? It's like the city itself is decomposing."
"Because the city is decomposing, Roxy, the manor at the top of the hill is the only thing kept pristine, and it stays that way by draining the life out of places like this. I spent ten years breathing this air before I ever saw a Luminous Knight's barracks. The smell doesn't bother me, it just reminds me why we're here."
Clara pointed toward a sagging, two-story structure at the end of the lane, where the dim light of a single tallow candle flickered in the window.
"There. My children are in there. Please... if the guards come, don't let them see what I've become on those posters."
"We're here now, Clara, Get your kids ready. We move at midnight, and we don't stop until the gates are behind us."
The hovel was smaller than I had imagined, a cramped, leaning space held together by damp timber and desperation. As we stepped inside, five pairs of eyes lit up in the dim candlelight. The children, ranging from a toddler to a teenager, rushed forward with a chorus of "Mama!" that made my chest tighten.
Clara knelt, gathering them all into a single, protective embrace.
"I'm home, my loves. I'm home. I'm sorry... I didn't bring any food tonight. There was no time."
I looked around the small room and saw a familiar wooden bowl on the table. It contained the same grey, tasteless mush I had eaten in the manor's manger. My stomach turned. She was smuggling out the scraps meant for the livestock just to keep her family breathing.
"Kids, listen to me, We have to go. We're leaving Tata tonight."
The eldest boy looked at the masks and our hidden weapons, fear clouding his eyes.
"But the gates are closed, Mama. The men in the black suits said no one leaves."
Mochi stepped forward, his tall frame nearly touching the low ceiling. He lowered his hood, though he kept his hand near his blade.
"He's right. We can't go to the main gates. Dominik has them barricaded with steel and crossbowmen. If we show our faces there, we won't make it ten feet."
The room fell into a heavy silence until Mochi turned toward the window, looking out toward the jagged edge of the slum district.
"On the southeast edge of the slums, near the old tanneries, there's a drainage pipe buried under the rubble, Five years ago, I spent months digging a hole through the foundation of the outer wall. It's small, and it's filthy, but it leads directly to the forest outside the perimeter." Mochi revealed, his voice distant, as if he were looking into the past.
He looked at Clara, then at the five wide-eyed children.
"That is the same hole I used to escape Tata when I was little, It's hidden, it's safe, and it's the only way out of this cage that Dominik doesn't know about."
I looked at Mochi, realizing now why he moved through these alleys with such grim familiarity. This wasn't just a mission for him, he was retracing the steps of his own survival.
Mochi stepped forward, his tall frame nearly brushing the low ceiling. He looked out the cracked window toward the distant, reinforced main gates.
The children looked at the massive Luminous Knight in fear, but Mochi knelt to their level, his voice softening.
He stood back up, his eyes turning sharp as he looked at me and Clara.
"We aren't waiting for midnight. Every hour we sit here is an hour the guards have to search the perimeter. If they find that hole, they'll collapse it or set an ambush inside. We're wasting time. We leave now, while the guards are still distracted by the execution in the square. We move through the shadows, and we move fast."
I gripped my cloak, the weight of the mission shifting.
"He's right. If they find that tunnel, we're trapped in a cage with Dominik. Clara, get them ready. We're going underground."
After that, we proceeded to the tunnel that Mochi made, the slums was filled with dead animals and lifestock, I eve tucked my maid dress to cover the reek smell.
The air in the southeastern slums was stagnant, smelling of salt and old leather. Mochi led us to the back of a collapsed tannery, where thick, thorny vines had woven a natural curtain over a pile of rubble. With a grunt of effort, he wrenched the vegetation aside, revealing a narrow, dirt-packed opening that smelled of damp earth and old memories.
"One at a time, keep your heads down and don't stop crawling until you see the light of the forest floor."
The children filed in, small and agile. Clara stood at the mouth of the tunnel, her eyes brimming with tears as she looked at us one last time. She reached out, squeezing my hand before turning her gaze to the golden-haired knight.
"What about you, Mochi? You're on the posters. They know your face. Come with us. You've done enough."
Mochi stood tall, the sunlight catching the scarred silver of his pauldrons. He looked toward the manor on the hill, his expression hardening into something ancient and cold.
"I'm tired of backing up, Clara, I didn't survive the slums just to run forever. I have a debt to settle. I'm going to avenge my family, and I won't stop until the Callus Empire is nothing but ash and stories."
Clara gasped, realizing the depth of the fire burning inside him. She gave a final, solemn nod and disappeared into the shadows of the earth. Mochi quickly set to work, pulling the vines and debris back over the entrance until the tunnel was once again a secret held only by the dirt.
He stood up, dusting his hands, and prepared to head back into the heart of the town. But suddenly, he stopped. His feline ears twitched, and his gaze locked onto a specific direction in the distance.
"What is it, Mochi? Did you hear a patrol?"
He didn't answer immediately. He simply pointed toward a small, isolated hovel tucked between two leaning warehouses. It was even more dilapidated than Clara's, with a roof that had partially caved in and a door hanging by a single hinge. Scrawled onto the door in faded, childish charcoal was a single word:
Home.